The Lucky Bracelet
by Scribler360
Summary: After a pitiful match, Draco Malfoy terrorizes Hermione in the showers and comes to realize there are mysterious powers at work and Hermione's his lucky charm. So he won't let her go. Not ever.
1. The Wrong Changing Room

"HERMIONE!"

The girl in question looked up, baffled. Before looking down again when it became apparent who was calling her. Although Luna was a good friend, and always will be, even _Harry _and _Ron _knew well enough to leave her alone when it came to her books.

But maybe it was urgent?

She looked up again and gave Luna a tentative smile, half-rising from her seat to greet her. But it seemed her initial suspcions were correct and Luna wasn't stopping by for a pleasant chat on _Bendymellows._

_"_Hermione!"

"What is it?" she asked, alarmed. Was Harry or Ron in danger? Was Hogwarts finally getting attacked?

It seemed neither of those answers were the answer.

"You need to give this lucky charm to Ron!"

"_What?"_

Luna brandished forth a leather bracelet, the same material the tough Quidditch gloves were made out of, and let it fall delicately into Hermione's outstretched hand. Already she was turning it over, examining the deft craftmanship with high eyebrows. Whoever made this bracelet, clearly knew a thing or two about weaving. Black and Red cords fed each other to form on a whole, quite a beautiful pattern.

Someone cleared their throat, and Hermione glanced up at Luna's proud stare.

"I made it myself," she admitted, "And I really want Ron to have it. He's been down on his luck lately."

"Okay," Hermione nodded, "I'll give it to him later, when I see him."

"_No, _Hermione! You have to give it to him now! The match starts only in-" Luna read the time of the clock-"_ten _minutes. Please, Hermione! You have to find him now!"

The Quidditch match was today? It's funny how little things like that slipped Hermione's conscience on a day to day basis. She should've seen the signs much clearer, because they always repeated themselves before the victory or downfall of a house. First came the sideway glance, quickly giving way to venomous glares. Not long after came the corridor attacks, people walking by themselves at night mysteriously getting pushed over or splattered with eggplant gunk by an invisible meanace.

And then came D-Day. Solemn rows of people at breakfast, not daring to put one morsel to their lips.

If only she had stopped stuffing her face, and staring at her book long enough to notice it this morning.

But alas.

"Don't worry, Luna," Hermione said firmly, curling her digits around the bracelet. "I will get this to him if it's the last thing I do."

Luna gave an appreciative nod and stepped aside gracefully as Hermione began to canter. Soon she'd cleared the library and two floors before she remembered Ron and the others were probably in the Changing rooms, rather than their dormitories. Taking it in her stride, Hermione switched directions and began heading down towards the dungeons- and inevitablly- the changing rooms beyond.

She didn't wait to knock. Confident everyone would be long dressed by now in their Quidditch Garb, Hermione pushed open the door and ran in.

Before screeching to a halt.

"_You," _growled a all-to-familiar voice.

"Malfoy," Hermione whimpered.

...

She had ran into the Slytherin Changing Rooms. Eleven faces were watching her, all in varying states of mobility. Some of them looked incredibly surprised including Theodore Nott and Vincent Crabbe, bless them. But the more prominent ones like Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini already had a sneer curling around their lips.

Unlike the Gryffindor Quidditch team, where there was a boy to girl ratio thankfully, Slytherin seemed to have an _all boys _team. Alongside their varying states of mobility, each of them also seemed to be in varying states of undress. Draco was bare-chested and gleaming in baby oils. Zabini had his clothes on, right down to his last zipper. And Goyle? Well let's say he had no clothes on at _all._

_"_Oh Merlin!" Hermione cried, slapping a hand across her eyes. Accidentally she let go of Luna's lucky bracelet, and didn't even realise what'd she done until she felt the clammy print left behind on her skin.

She was so busy edging back and feeling the door handle behind her, she didn't realize Draco was signalling two of his team-mates with his eyes until two heavy hands fell on her shoulders.

Hermione was trapped.

_Oh Merlin._

"Take her wand."

"No," Hermione fought as a hand delved into her pockets, and emerged triumphant with a wand. Theodore threw it at Draco and he caught it deftly, his skin pulling taught over his muscles. Hermione had to admit he was a fine specimen, but entirely too pale for her taste.

"Take off her robe."

"_No." _Hermione fought even harder and found an oppurtunity to escape when her robe was wrenched off her shoulders, and she was suddenly _free. _No hands holding her back, and better yet none seemed to be reaching out for her! Three steps before she was pulled back, this time under her armpits and they took her so off-kelter Hermione lost her balance and would've fell if it weren't for the arms supporting her.

Draco stepped into view, still shirtless and an evil look in his eye.

"Did you really think we'd let you go? After you practically walked into our laps?"

Hermione bucked her hips in panic.

"Draco," someone urged in the background. "Maybe we should let her go. The game starts in five minutes and we don't really have time-"

"Oh, we'll _make _time," he snarled, intimidating Hermione enough to stop. "Well," he ammended, "_After _the game."

"So what do we do with her until then?" the person holding her captive spoke, and Hermione thanked Merlin it wasn't Goyle in his birthday suit. But all thoughts of gratitude fled her mind, when Draco stepped meancingly forward and lent down so they were nose to nose. His harsh breaths mingling with her shallow ones. His instructions were meant for his fellow team-mates, but as every word left his mouth and brushed against hers, Hermione couldn't help but think everything he was saying was for _her _benefit.

"Tie her up in the showers. You know the drill. Boths arms abover her head and a gag around her mouth."

"NO!" Hermione screamed, her spit landing on Draco's face. She watched as he impassively wiped off the spit with his thumb, and then flicked it back at her, so some of her saliva landed on her nose.

"You cretin!" she yelled, as the person holding her began dragging her backwards to the showers. As the boy whom she vaguely recognised as a Slytherin 5th year wrenched her arms up and tied her hands around the shower head, behind him, Hermione still could see through the gap left behind where the door failed to close properly.

Back in the changing room, Draco's back was faced towards her and it flexed when he reached down to grab the emerald robes needed for the match. He pulled it over his shoulders and turned the collar up, his usual parting gesture.

"If you weren't a Gryffindor and a mudblood at that, I would be feeling sorry for you," the boy tying her up murmered.

"Well-" Hermione opened her mouth to say- Merlin knows what- but was rudely interrupted when a handkerchief was stuffed into her mouth. Hermione gagged, trying to retch the piece of fabric out of her throat, but after her eyes stopped watering and she sagged against the cubicle wall, it was only to find Malfoy in front of her.

Instinctively Hermione screamed. But ended up hacking halfway through and slumping once more against the wall.

Her chest was heaving uncontrollably, and one button busted open.

Oh no.

Draco seemed unaffected however, when he reached up and turned on the dial for cold water. Hermione closed her eyes, as the water drenched her hair and then her clothes and last, but not least her pride. Why was he humiliating her like this? Couldn't he hex her and be done with it?

Both boys watched speculatively, as the Hermione Granger who normally hid behind baggy clothes, suddenly developed a shape (and a curvy one at that) as her white shirt clung to her breasts and hips, and her normally bushy hair was plastered flat to her skull.

The 5th year elbowed Draco excitedly when her bra began to show through, but Draco silenced him with one look.

Anger.

"You better hope we win this game, Granger or we'll come back in a foul mood."

Hermione nodded her head tightly.

When she opened her eyes again, it was to face an empty shower-room and an equally empty changing room beyond that. Somewhere outside of the room, perhaps right outside the door, loud boos and hisses filled the arena as Slytherin walked out to meet Gryffindor in the middle of the pitch.

_"As Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy square off, let the match begin!"_

Hermione closed her eyes.

It was going to be a long match.

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><p><strong>Next chapter is going to be longer this. Feel free to review :)<strong>


	2. Gryffindor wins, Slytherin loses

**This chapter has some sexual content. And before any of you cry RAPE...it's not.**

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><p>"<em>Zabini passes to Goyle, Goyle reaches forward with the Quaffle, but wait! A passing bludger knocks it right out of his hands! In swoops Ginny Weasley, determination on her face aS she catches the Quaffle in a brilliant nose-dive! But wait, her grip is loosening...loosening...and in comes Zabini again, clipping the tail-end of Weasley's broom- I'm pretty sure that's a foul- FOUL!- but his dirty trick works, and Slytherin are in possession of the Quaffle. Zabini to Nott, Nott nears Ronald Weasley and- SCOOOREEEE!"<em>

A loud groan filled the stadium as Ron hung his head sheepishly, and the Slytherins fist-pumped the air on the otherside of the pitch.

Luna looked downcast in her roaring lion hat.

Where was Hermione?

...

The Slytherin's were winning. Hadn't she hoped for that? Prayed for it, even? But Hermione had to wonder if the Slytherin's returning in a good mood, necessarily meant letting her go. Maybe their idea of a good mood was reducing eleven hours of torture to seven?

_Then I hope Gryffindor wins_, she thought before succumbing to violent shivering again.

Outside, Zaharias Smith couldn't seem to believe his eyes.

"_It looks like Potter's seen something! Draco's sniffing around too. Has Potter just farted, or does he know Potter's onto something? Potter's diving! HE'S DIVING, PEOPLE! HE'S REACHING OUT...MALFOY'S GAINING ON HIM, BUT IT'S TOO LATE...GRYFFINDOR WINS!"_

Draco Malfoy landed angrily, and threw his broom on the grass. He crossed his arms and watched as the remaining Gryffindorks flying around in the air, joined Harry on the ground and began their celebrations. Ginny gave Harry a slobbering kiss much to Dean's dismay.

"Yuck," a voice commented by his side, and Draco didn't have to look to know Zabini had joined him.

Both of them watched the victory party for a while, before Zabini decided enough was enough, and a cold shower was in order.

"I'm going in, man," he slapped Draco on the shoulder. "Take your time."

Draco didn't respond, and Zabini shook his head still wondering when Draco will come around, by the time he was unzipping his flies in the Changing room. He unfastened his emerald cloak, and wrapped a towel around his waist so no-body would have to glimpse his jewels when he took of his pants.

As Zabini sat down to remove his socks, a shrill scream came from the showers.

"What the fuck?" he quickly got up, just in time to see an ashen-faced sixth-year exit the showers, barely clinging to the towel around his hips. His legs were trembling and a red flush had crept up his throat.

"Was that you?" Blaise demanded, as the boy continued shaking.

"There's-There's-a girl in there!" he stuttered.

"A girl?" A frown marred Blaise's forehead, before he realized exactly _who _she was. "Granger!"

Hermione was nearly blue with hypothermia, when she felt a strand of her hair being tugged roughly. She barely reacted, instead letting her head loll sideways and exposing the creamy column of her neck. Blaise watched with scrutinising eyes as the water rained down on her barely conscious form. He reached out and turned the shower off, before calling over his shoulder, "Come and take a shower, boys! Granger's unconscious."

Almost at once, nine boys stampeded into the room without further ado. Sweaty towels fell to the floor, as their respective owners each found a cubby of their own to cleanse in. In the next few minutes, all that could be heard was the sound of showers blasting, soap upon skin, and the occasional light-hearted moan when their hands brushed inbetween their legs.

Theodore was even going as far as to shampoo his hair, water snaking down his spine deliciously.

Hermione wasn't totally unconscious. Occasionally she drifted into focus, before the heavy steam made her loose all grip on reality.

By the time she fully came round, all the boys had taken a shower (save one) and were back in the Changing Room, drying themselves off and putting back on the Hogwarts uniform. The left behind steam was creating the room into a sauna, and Hermione found to her delight she wasn't shivering anymore.

But wait. She was still trapped! And already a few of the Slytherins had taken the exit towards the dungeons.

Did that mean they'd forgotten all about her? They were leaving her here to _rot?_

_Get back here! _Hermione tried to say, but nothing came out bar a few mumbles. She started struggling again, but this time in an attempt to dislodge her hands from their prison. After a few chafe marks, Hermione tried jumping up and down and even at one point, revolving her body 360.

But none of them worked, and she watched in despair as Blaise, the last boy left in the changing rooms, bent down to retrieve his broomstick.

_Don't leave me! _she wanted to cry and the thought was reinforced when Draco Malfoy walked into the room.

No. _No!_

"Don't take it too hard," Blaise said softly when his friend stopped in front of him. Draco didn't look up to meet his eye. "The only reason those Gryffindorks beat us was because they had Potter. Without Potter..." he tailed off, suggestively.

"I hate him," Draco looked up to catch Hermione's eyes. Pensively.

He jerked his head towards her direction. "Did any of you...?"

"No," Blaise hastily cut in. "We didn't try anything with her. She was practically half-dead by the time we came in, so the guys just went ahead and had a shower. We didn't touch her. I swear."

"Good," Draco shrugged off his robes. "I feel like relieving some tension."

Blaise's back was faced towards her, so Hermione didn't catch the troubled look on his face. Both of them watched, as Draco let his robes hit the floor and reached down to grab a towel from the bench. He wrapped it around his neck, as he went to work on his flies.

"Draco, you aren't...?"

"I just want to take a shower," he snapped, and shouldered past a relieved Blaise towards the showers. Blaise called out a last warning about the whole shower-room being out of hot water, except for the one Granger was tied too and parted merrily. Leaving Draco to stare at Hermione openly from the doorway of the room.

Hermione inwardly cursed him as many hexes as possible.

"I want to talk to you," Draco took Hermione aback, as he strode over to Hermione and removed the handkerchief stuffed down the throat. Hermione went instinctively to spit saliva on his face, but found her entire throat lacked moisture and wound up coughing instead.

"I'm really pissed off here, mudblood, and I suggest you reveal all of Potter's weaknesses _now _to save you a lot of pain."

"Fuck you."

The punch came out of no-where. Hermione's head cracked back, as the blow glanced off her nose and she _heard _the cartilage break, so not only was she seeing stars but drinking her own blood as well. She woozily let her head fall forwards again, and caught Malfoy caressing his knuckles.

Hermione grinned. At last she had some fluid in her mouth, to spit at him with.

And she followed through spectacularly.

Enraged, Draco stepped forward and grabbed at Hermione's shirt with both hands, lifting her so her face directly fell under his. He shook her a couple of times until her teeth rattled, and figured she wasn't worth bothering with.

So he let her go. And let her bang head-on with the wall.

"You're so pathetic, I can't even beat you up," he growled and reached over to turn on the shower dial. Hermione braced herself for the cold water again, but was surprised when billowing hot water jetted out over her and around her. What was going on?

The question was answered, when she saw Draco turn around and let his pants drop to the ground. He kicked it out of the way, and stepped backward so the shower was pelting over him and Hermione had full view of his back. His skin looked very smooth, and also worryingly alabaster, but Hermione could see every indent and vertebrae as he dove his fingers into his pale blond hair and scrubbed his scalp.

His skin was wet. They clung indecently where they had no business clinging.

And Hermione was getting in way over her head.

...

"I'm telling you, Ron. I saw Hermione's dot somewhere around here on the Marauder's Map."

"Get outta here!" Ron scoffed. "What would our Hermione be doing down _here?"_

Hermione snapped out of her little day-dream when she heard the beloved voices of her best friends. "Over here!" she opened her mouth to yell, but was thwarted yet again when Draco swivelled on his feet and clapped a hand around her mouth. The dangerous look in his eyes darkened, when the door leading to the Slytherin Changing Rooms rattled as someone tried the handle.

"We've tried everywhere else, Ron and we couldn't find her. The least we could do was come down here, right? What if Hermione's in trouble?"

_Don't let them find us, _Draco repeated in his head. _Don't let them find us._

His palm holding Hermione's mouth suddenly tingled, as outside the changing room doors, Harry cursed.

"I left the map behind in the common room! And the door's locked. What are we going to do, Ron?"

Ron scratched his head before replying, certain Hermione wouldn't have ventured so far south. "Let's check the Room of Requirement first, Harry, you know that never shows up on the map- and if we still can't find her, we'll go get the map again."

"Sounds like a good plan," Harry said, easily swayed and Draco let out a breath of relief as two sets of footsteps faded down the corridor.

And suddenly he registered what position he was in. His genitals were pressed against Hermione's skirt, as she awkwardly shifted against him. The hand that was still touching her skin was tingling, and Draco found he didn't want to let go of her. If anything, he wanted to duplicate that feeling tenfold by touching her _everywhere. _But he settled for cupping her face instead.

Hermione was freaked out. Five minutes ago, he had been ready to bash her brains out, but within moments of pressing her against the wall and pressing one forearm to her neck, and the other hand clawing over her mouth, he had_ turned._

Gently he cupped her face, and tilted it to face him.

"I'm feeling _happy," _he groaned, and Hermione had trouble understanding what he meant.

Until his penis started enlarging against her leg.

Grossed out, Hermione screwed her eyes tightly, as she felt him stumble back from her and make a detour into the adjacent stall. Not soon after low moans filled the shower-room as Draco presumably placed a hand around himself and began working his length. Maybe he used varying pressure, maybe he was just really good at masturbation but within minutes, Draco let out a loud cry as he ejaculated into the drain.

Hermione was thoroughly and truly disturbed.

What the hell?

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><p><strong>Response has been amazing. I tried to reply to everyone but you guys overwhelmed me. There I was expecting 4 reviews but...WOW!<br>Touching Hermione made Draco think he was getting lucky. So feel free to review :)**


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